Die Hard the Hunter
by Dr. Sexy M.D
Summary: Another installment in my Def Leppard angst, bittersweet series. This story is S/D and is about Sam leaving for college. Warnings: Slight Wincest and brief reference to Wincest, violence and language. This story features Sam, Dean and John. *This story is not connected to Bringin' on the Heartache by plot whatsoever. Hope you like it!


A/N: Okay, here's the second installment of my angsty Def Leppard series! This one just hit me today and I had to do it...even before I finished up another J2 story that I started a long time ago. This one is sad and angsty and rated M for language. There's mention of Wincest and very light actual Wincest. This is a lot different than what I normally do (mainly because there's no sex) but it's a story that I couldn't walk away from and something I've always wanted to write!

In this story: There's some violence, a lot of angst and an established (albeit messed up) relationship. This is about Sam going off to college. Rated M for language. I hope you enjoy it!

P.S. This one also (obviously) has nothing to do with "Bringin' on the Heartache" so there's no reason to read that first.

* * *

Die Hard the Hunter

Sam walked into their crappy motel of the week and sat down on the brown, lumpy couch beside his brother. He looked over at Dean and noticed that he was laughing and smiling, watching his favorite cartoon and drinking a beer. Sam couldn't deny how beautiful his brother looked when he was happy like that. "Hey Dean."

Dean quickly flashed him a smile and then he turned his face back to the television, laughing along. "Hey Sammy."

Sam decided to let that one go. He didn't want to start anything, not really. "Uh Dean, I need to talk to you about something."

Dean looked at his brother with mild annoyance, "Can't it wait until my show's over?"

"I guess so." Sam muttered, getting to his feet. He went to the kitchen and pulled another beer out of the fridge. He didn't generally enjoy drinking very much, but sometimes the occasion called for it.

Suddenly Dean was behind him, "Shit, this must be bad." He muttered. He spun his brother around, giving his entire body the once-over, "What's wrong? Are you sick? Hurt?"

Sam put his hands up. Dean sometimes had a flare for the dramatics. "No Dean, I'm fine."

Dean let out the breath he'd been holding. "Don't fucking scare me like that. What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Okay Dad. Just because I wanted to talk to you doesn't mean that something's wrong."

"You're drinking a beer and you have that look on your face."

"What look?"

"The one that tells me that you need to tell me something that you don't want to tell me. So, what is it? Did you get some girl pregnant?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "No Dean." This was completely useless.

"Don't tell me you've got herpes!" Dean exclaimed. He looked down at himself and frowned.

Sam groaned, "No Dean, I don't have herpes, you don't need to worry about anything like that." He nearly slammed his fist down on the counter, "Would you just listen to me instead of asking a bunch of stupid questions?"

Dean reacted as though he'd been slapped. Sam rarely got like this and it always reduced him to acting like a moron. "Okay, okay. What is it, Sammy?"

"For the hundredth time, it's Sam…" He didn't really mind when Dean was calling him Sammy in the throes of passion, but he wasn't about to bring that up when he was making a point. "I just wanted to tell you something. I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to college."

One of Dean's eyebrows rose, "What?"

"I'm. going. to. college. What's hard to understand about that?"

"Why? You want to chase a little tail? Well, I can understand that."

He and Dean's relationship was so fucked up it wasn't funny. The fact that they could be together one minute, riding each other in pure passion, and then the next just be brothers who liked to bang other chicks…it was just freaking weird as hell. Sam rolled his eyes, "No Dean, you're not following me. I got accepted to Stanford, pre-law, and I'm going."

It was like Sam had shot him in the heart with one of his own guns. "What?"' And seriously, how long had Sam been planning this? He must've known for months. If it hadn't all come out of left field Dean would've pointed that fact out.

Sam moved closer to Dean then, putting his hand over his brother's, "It's not that big a deal, Dean. It's just college, it's not like I just told you I wanted to be a monk or something. I'll still be around. I'll have a few months off during the year and then there's holidays and stuff…it's not forever."

"Why are you doing this, Sam?"

"I've always wanted to be normal, Dean, you know that."

Dean grimaced. He hated this; he really, really hated this. He ran his hand over his face and turned around to leave the room, needing to clear his mind for a few minutes.

"Where are you going?"

"Need some fresh air, maybe go for a drive…"

"You know Dad's out with the car." Sam pointed out.

"Then I'll walk." That was all Dean said before he left the motel.

Sam cursed as he punched his hand through the wall.

* * *

About an hour later their dad got home. "Hey Sammy." John said, tossing his leather jacket over the back of a chair. He removed the gun from the back of his jeans and set it on the table. "Where's your brother?"

Sam shrugged, "Out for a walk."

John noticed the hole in the wall and looked back at Sam, "After he put the hole in the wall?"

"I did that." Sam muttered.

John sighed, "I'm going to have to pay for that you know."

"Seriously?!" Sam nearly exploded. "Your first thought is to get upset about the money rather than ask if I'm okay? What the fuck?!"'

"Watch your tone with me boy!"

"I'm about to punch something else!"

"Sam!" John exclaimed.

"Don't Sam me, dad!" Sam exclaimed.

"I don't understand why we're always reduced to these kinds of conversations."

"Because you spend your life with your head up your own ass."

"Excuse me?!" John was on his feet immediately, about to beat his youngest son for his insubordination. He didn't raise his children to be so disrespectful.

"Look Dad, all I can say is that I'm glad I'm leaving in two days!" He started to leave himself, needing to get out of there. It seemed like he and his father could never get along, no matter what the situation involved. There was no way this conversation was going to go well.

John caught Sam's arm before he could leave and slapped him right across the face. "Don't you ever talk to me like that again! I am your father and I demand respect!"

Sam was pissed, but more than that he was afraid. He knew that look in his father's eyes. His father could be the most protective person in the world, but he could also be scary as hell. "Sorry." It was a half-hearted sorry, but it was better than nothing.

"What the hell is this about you leaving in two days? Just where do you think you're going?"

"College."

"What?"

Sam just couldn't do anything to stop his eyes from rolling in his annoyance, "I've already been through all of this with Dean. I got accepted to Stanford and I'm going. I leave in two days…"

"Like hell you do!"

"Like you can stop me!" Sam didn't know why he was like this with their father, but the man just pissed him the hell off.

"I have a good mind to beat the hell out of you!"

"Just go right ahead!" Sam said trying to egg him on.

John was just about to start throwing punches if Dean hadn't come rushing in and thrown himself between the two of them…like always. "Please stop! Both of you!"

John sighed, "Dean, this doesn't concern you. Get out of my way."

"No dad, please. Come on, killing each other isn't going to help anything."

"Might stop your brother from doing something stupid as hell."

"Me wanting to go to college is stupid?!"

"Incredibly!" John exclaimed, "We're hunters, we don't get to go to college."

"You forget, Dad, that I never chose this life. I didn't get a vote. You put us both in this life and we've never had a chance to do anything else. Well, this isn't what I want. I just want to be normal! I want a real life. I want to be a regular person." Sam sad, growing more and more tired as he went on. How long had he been trying to say all of this…since he learned how to talk? "This is your life, Dad, not ours!"

John looked at Dean. "You agree with him, son?"

Dean sighed, "No sir."

"Dean." Sam nearly whined. Why did Dean always take their father's side?

"Sam, shut up." Dean muttered. "You're not helping your case any, okay? Look, no matter whether we wanted this life or not this is what we have, it's what we know. So, this is what we do. You know that."

"It doesn't have to be that way! Look, most families would be proud that I got a full ride…a full ride!"

John was so upset he couldn't even see straight. He had one son who wanted to just walk out on them, wanted to put himself in harm's way just to be normal and another son who didn't agree with it but wasn't about to step out of the way and let him beat the hell out of the other. Dean would always protect Sam; he had himself to thank that. In this one instance those words, "protect Sammy", that he always said to Dean came back to bite him in the ass… "Dean, step out of the way."

Dean shook his head, "No sir, I'm sorry, but I can't." He knew his father knew that too. "Hit me instead."

Sam drew in his breath, he always hated this shit. He hated when Dean was the martyr and took his beatings…he'd been doing that his whole life.

John didn't know what was wrong with him. He should've just walked out, but for some reason his own rage stopped him. He shook his head, saying a silent apology and then punched Dean right in the jaw, followed by the gut.

Dean tried to stand there and take it like a man. He'd asked for this, it was his fault. He closed his eyes as his father let out his aggression. He couldn't help it though; he fell to the floor, just before he was kicked in the side by one of John's boots.

Sam dropped to the floor, tears streaming down his face, screaming for John to stop.

It finally registered to John what the hell he was doing. He shook his head to clear his mind and looked down at his bloody son, the one who hadn't done anything to deserve this kind of punishment, and he wanted to be sick. "Dean." He said softly.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Dad?!"

"Sam, shut up." Dean whispered, holding his side. That last kick had been the worst of it all. He certainly didn't want another round of it, but he'd take it if he had to.

John looked right at Sam, "You serious about this college thing?"

"Absolutely."

John noticed the painful look in Dean's eyes – one that had nothing to do with the beating – and looked away; he didn't want to think about any of that. He knew his sons had a relationship that bordered on unhealthy, maybe it was even worse than he imagined, but chose to not think about any of that. "Then you should go and stay gone! Don't come back!" And with that he was out the door.

Sam wanted to holler back at him, but he was gone. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before attending to Dean, who had somehow managed to get back to his feet. "Dean, let me help you. Shit, I'm sorry, you shouldn't let him hit you like that. I can deal with him."

"Clearly you can't." Dean mumbled, shaking his head.

"You don't always have to be the peacemaker, you know that, right?"

Dean glared up at his brother, "With the two of you I have to be the fucking referee." He groaned as he sat down, "Get me a beer…or two!"

Sam ran to get Dean a couple beers and some pain medication. He brought both of them back to his ailing brother. "Seriously Dean, there could be some internal bleeding. You should let me look at you."

"When'd you become a doctor, Sam?"'

"Come on Dean, I know what internal bleeding looks like by now." He rolled his eyes. He hated when Dean got like this. "Let me do something, Dean, please." He reached over and ran his hands through Dean's hair, leaning over to kiss the spot where their dad's fist had met Dean's beautiful face.

Dean swatted Sam away, "Just get away from me."

"What?" Sam was shocked. He'd never expected Dean to say that to him.

"You heard me. I just want to be alone." Dean muttered.

"Fine." That was Sam's cue to let Dean have his alone time. "Good, I'm glad I'm leaving on Sunday!"

The sound of the door slamming startled Dean. He hadn't really expected Sam to actually leave. He also hadn't meant what he'd said; he'd never want Sam to go away…never.

* * *

When Sunday came, Dean was the one to drop Sam off at college, having promised their father that he'd do it, because apparently John wanted to see a lot less of Sam than Dean did.

Sam sighed dramatically from the passenger seat of their beloved Impala, "I wish it hadn't been like this Dean."

"Me too." Dean nearly whispered. He hated seeing Sam leave like this, but he knew he'd made the decision to go an easy one for Sam. "But, you've always wanted to be normal, you said that yourself."

"Well yeah." Sam shrugged, "Doesn't everyone want to be normal?" He didn't think he was that strange.

Dean shrugged, "Some of us don't have much choice."

"That's not true, Dean. You could have a normal life too if you just decided to and did it."

Dean looked over at Sam like he was crazy, "Hunting is all I am, all I'll ever be."

"That's not true and you know it."

"Yes it is."

Sam reached over and laced his fingers with Dean's and Dean looked away, embarrassed. "It doesn't have to be." He wanted to ask Dean to go with him, to leave their dad in the dark, but he just couldn't get the words to come out of his mouth. Besides, he already knew what his brother would say.

Dean wanted to beg Sam to stay with him, not to go, but he knew it was futile. Besides, Dean wanted Sam to be happy, more than anything else in the entire world. And, he knew that Sam's leaving was his fault. Sam had wanted to get away from their dad and him for a long time. Their relationship was too messed up. Dean knew that Sam needed to get away from him, meet some cute girl and have the life that he'd always wanted.

So, when Sam sighed, realizing he'd lost the battle with Dean and stepped out of the car, Dean did nothing to stop him. He just let him go. It was the most painful thing he'd ever been through…far more painful than any of his father's beatings or even his mother's death. This was Sam…his Sammy…and he was leaving him, forever.


End file.
